


Lessons in Fatherhood- Raising a Queen

by spreadyourwingsandfly



Category: Black Panther - Fandom, Marvel
Genre: Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff, Humor, Memories, Parent T'Challa (Marvel), Parent-Child Relationship, Protective T'Challa (Marvel), Sad and Happy, Sweet T'Challa (Marvel), T'Challa is a good dad, he loves his children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 01:08:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15328404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spreadyourwingsandfly/pseuds/spreadyourwingsandfly
Summary: A glimpse into the relationship that T'Challa has with his daughter, Adanya, and the lessons that he's learned in raising her.





	Lessons in Fatherhood- Raising a Queen

A glimpse into the life lessons that raising a queen has taught T’Challa.   
A prequel to my next story.   
T’Challa became a dad on this day sixteen years ago. That, of course, was in his late 20’s. He is not the same person today that he was on that day so many years ago. To say that he was scared would be a lie.  
He was terrified. Here was this tiny, defenseless creation, depending on him. She was the product of his love for her mother, of her love for him. She was the perfect combination of them and so incredibly perfect and lovely that it scared him for a moment. The first time she was placed in his arms… that was the moment he knew he loved her with all of his heart, knew that he’d protect her from anything and anyone.  
That is what T’Challa tells her a week later, when her mother is fast asleep as he coos and rocks and comforts their daughter as the thunderstorm rages on outside. He learns that he may be the Black Panther, the protector of Wakanda, but he is also protector of the little baby who is staring up at him with wide eyes. He learns that he is not perfect, but he adores his daughter and maybe that’s good enough.  
‘’It’s okay, my daughter. Shh,’’ he presses a kiss to her forehead as her cries subside, turning into whimpers before she finally quiets down.  
‘’There we go,’’; he shifts in his seat, holding her closer, tightening the blanket around her.  
His wife would often catch him checking on her in the middle night, not trusting the baby monitor enough. He’d tuck her blanket around her, watch her sleep, press a kiss to her forehead and be thankful for all that he has.  
She’s one year old when her mother is away on a volunteer mission, Ramonda is sick, Shuri is in California and California and Adanya is cranky.  
Oh, and he has a council meeting with the elders and M’baku, That’s how he ends up with his one year old daughter playing on a blanket on the other side of the room, his eyes checking for her every so often, his heart content when he sees her happily playing with her doll.  
She’s three years old when he stands her in front of a mirror. He’s learning that, in a world that will constantly tear her down, he needs to teach her to build herself up.  
‘’Repeat after me, Adanya: ‘I am strong’.’’  
‘’I strong.’’  
‘’I am smart.’’  
‘’I smart.’’  
‘’I am beautiful.’’  
‘’I beautiful.’’  
This becomes a daily thing. He repeats it with her every day until she knows it by heart, marveling in the fact that, as the years go by, he can see each one of these traits being added to her.  
She’s six years old when the divorce from her mother i finalized and she finds T’Challa in his study, staring at the picture of you, her, himself and Ado that he keeps on his desk. He learns that the divorce rocked her a bit too, shook her train of thought and her world. She has more nightmares lately.  
He also learns that he is raising a child who is is empathetic that is heart can not help but to swell with pride at the mere thought of it.  
‘’Daddy,’’ she squeaks from the doorway, and T’Challa looks to find his little girl staring at him with sleepy eyes, curls all over her head, making it obvious she took out her pigtail braids herself.  
‘’What are you doing up,’’ T’Challa opened his arms and she climbs onto his lap, resting her head against his chest as she clutches her black panther stuffed toy closer and closer.  
‘’I had a bad dream,’’ she blinks up at him, unshed tears still in her water eyes, ‘’Baba, what is wrong? Why are you crying?’  
He shakes his head, presses a kiss to her head. She is the sweetest, always concerned about others.  
‘’Mother, daughter.’’  
She wipes his tears with her small fingers, on the verge of tears again just from seeing him cry, ‘’Don’t cry, daddy.’’  
He brings her in for a tighter hug, pressing another kiss to her forehead, telling her to go to sleep, that it is alright.  
He holds his daughter protectively as she drifts off to sleep, little eyes fluttering close and her head against his shoulder as he stands, taking her back to her room and checking on Ado before returning to his own for the night.  
It’s when she is eight years old that she has her dad to herself for the day, and they listen to Motown songs that her Auntie Shuri loves and dance around before her dad reminds her that he needs to get dressed. She walks with him to the press conference, dressed in a black and white dress to match his black and white suit, soaking up the applause as he looks on with pride in her dad, in the king of Wakanda. The man who raises her just as well as he runs his country, she’s sure.   
It’s on her ninth birthday that he sneaks her an ice cream after dinner, when they’re in the palace garden. She giggles as she enjoys the frozen treat, a grin identical to his on her face as she stare up at her baba.  
‘’This is our little secret, yes?’’  
‘’Yes, baba,’’ she nods solemnly, enjoying the ice cream she knows her mother specifically forbade her to have, enjoying a moment alone without her brothers and to have her dad all to herself.  
She’s ten when her mother is away on another trip, her dad having been gone for nearly a month prior to three days before. She finds herself sleeping in her parents’ bed along with her brothers. The baby is curled up on her dad’s chest, with her and Ado on either side, her baba holding them in a protective and living embrace.  
It is on her thirteenth birthday that he tells her about the ceremony that will occur when she is twenty-one years old. She is going to battle him, for the throne and for the mantle of the Black Panther. She’s going to challenge him in ritual combat. They begin training soon for that, and he has to admit, she is good. It is because of her determined nature, because she never gives up without a fight.   
On her fourteenth birthday she is slamming her door shut after a fight with her dad. She does not want to be treated like a child, but she is sure acting one. And he has let her know that with no confusion. When she emerges an hour later, she’s learned that she can not disrespect her parents, that screaming and shouting won’t get her dad to listen to her. He learns to try to listen better, to let her grow and to make mistakes, as he wishes his mother would have let them do.   
Her fifteenth birthday creeps on him and he has to endure yet another day of meetings before finally going home to celebrate with his daughter. She spars with him before dinner, plays a game with him and her siblings afterwards. She recognizes that her dad is a busy man, tells him so later when he’s escorting her through the palace garden. It’s become a bit of a tradition for them.  
‘’I like that you spend time with my little siblings. They need you, too. Especially the youngest children. And I adore that you spend so much time with mother. Baba, you are a good man. Do not worry about me. I know that you care,’’ she tells him without him even having to tell her that something is weighing heavily on his mind. Then again, she is observant like that, he’s noticed.  
‘’Thank you, Adanya. I love you, too,’’ he smiles down at his first-born, the one who made him a baba in the first place and gave him a crash course in learning to love and care for the child that is now a grown woman.  
Today, she is sixteen years old. After a party with her family and a few people from school. He takes her on the walk through the palace garden.  
Adanya has grown into a beautiful young woman. She is smart, she is strong, she is determined, she is kind and she is a real warrior. She will make an excellent queen one day.  
‘’Baba,’’ she tells him, arm looped through his, ‘’When We do battle for the throne, promise you’ll truly try. DO not go easy on me. I want to show how good I am. I want to prove myself.’’  
Yup. She is the perfect combination of you and him.  
‘’I would never go easy on you. I know what you are capable of,’’ he reminds her, because he is the same man that reminded her so just about every day for thirteen years.  
She grins up at him as they walk past her favorite flowers, and T’Challa looks to the sky as the sun begins to set.  
No longer is his daughter running to him when he first comes home from long days of meetings. She’s getting ready to run a country. She’s grown up so fast, and he can’t deny that he’s a little upset. He missed so much of it when things fell apart, but he’s here now He’s here and he’s going to let her know that, come what may, Adanya has someone that she can lean on him.  
Soon, too soon, she’ll challenge him for the throne. She’ll win. Of course she will. When she does, she will become a benevolent and strong-willed and intelligent queen. He knows this. He’s known this since the day that she was born. Still, it doesn’t make it easier to accept. He just knows that now he must begin to learn the more important lesson of all.  
Letting go, and letting Adanya spread her wings and fly.  
Disclaimer- all Marvel characters belong to their right owners. I only own the plot and T’Challa’s children are my original characters


End file.
